


Flying With Dragons

by InsomniacAndBi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Westeros, Apolline is basically Daenerys, Bisexual Hermione Granger, F/F, F/M, Fleur and Hermione are the same age, Fleur doesn't have an accent, Hermione is a bastard, Lesbian Fleur Delacour, Princess Fleur Delacour, She won the Iron Throne though, just because I say so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniacAndBi/pseuds/InsomniacAndBi
Summary: Crown Princess Fleur of House Targaryen is very much in love with Hermione Sand, a bastard girl from DorneORA surprisingly fluffy Game of Thrones Au where Apolline was basically Daenerys, won the Iron Throne and has to suffer through her daughter being unconditionally in love with a bastard girl
Relationships: Fleur Delacour & Hermione Granger, Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 284





	Flying With Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Allegiances and Familial Links:
> 
> House Targaryen:  
> Apolline - Queen of Westeros  
> Fleur - Crown Princess of Westeros  
> Gabrielle - Princess of Westeros
> 
> House Tully:  
> Harry - heir to House Tully  
> Ginny - engaged to the heir of House Tully
> 
> House Stark:  
> Ron - sixth in line for House Stark  
> Ginny - seventh in line for House Stark  
> Remus - Maester of Healing and Runes under the Stark Banner  
> Hermione - apprentice of Maester Lupin and bannerman under House Stark
> 
> House Lannister:  
> Draco - heir to House Lannister  
> Lucius - head of House Lannister
> 
> House Martell:  
> Rodolphus - head of House Martell  
> Bellatrix - Lady of Sunspear  
> Hermione - bastard of the head of House Martell  
> Rabastan - brother of head of House Martell, heir of House Martell and Champion of House Martell
> 
> House Baratheon:  
> Tom - Champion of House Baratheon

The first time that Princess Fleur Targaryen met her, she was standing on the front steps of the palace in Kings Landing with her best friend Harry Tully.

They had been friends for years at this point - ever since Harry had arrived at age nine at the Queen's court. The corridors of the palace had been plagued by their mischief for ten years with no one able to tell them off - except Queen Apolline Targaryen but, even then, she had trouble catching in her intrepid daughter and her best friend.

"Is she pretty?" Fleur said softly as she and Harry waited for the procession of House Stark to end. Her speech had a light accent to it - owing to the days she spent in Essos while her mother was out conquering Westeros.

Today was the day that Ginevra Stark, youngest daughter of Lord and Lady Stark, was arriving in preparation for her marriage to Harry. 

"She is," Harry confirmed, his eyes trained to the carriage that had just started its path towards the palace.

Fleur reserved judgement as she gazed at the approaching horses.

That was the first time that she saw Hermione Sand.

The girl was seated on a light grey horse next to Maester Lupin - who sat tall on his own black horse. She wasn't wearing a dress like the ladies of Fleur's mother's court. She wasn't even wearing makeup and her curly hair was pulled up into a high ponytail as she adjusted the fit of her fraying jacket. She turned her head to the side, taking in the surroundings of Kings Landing as if it was the first time that she had seen something so splendid before.

They met eyes for a moment and Fleur knew that she had already fallen for this girl that she had never spoken to before. 

"She is beautiful," Fleur said - barely above a whisper as the girl turned back to engage Maester Lupin in conversation, breaking the eye contact that Fleur instantly began to crave again.

"Yeah," Harry said, eyes trained on the girl - Lady Ginevra - that had just exited the carriage," She is."

* * *

It took Fleur less than two hours to learn the girl's name.

Hermione Sand.

It had then taken Fleur an extra three hours trying to work out what House the girl was from - because, surely, such a beautiful girl couldn't be somebody so plain as a commoner. It had completely slipped Fleur's mind that each place in Westeros had a different name for Bastards. The Crownlands - including Kings Landing - used Waters. The North used Snow and the Iron Islands used Pyke. The Riverlands (where Harry was from) used Rivers and the Vale used Stone. The Westerlands called them Hill, the Reach used Flowers and the Stormlands used Storm - which, in Fleur's opinion, was highly unoriginal.

But, only Dorne called their bastards Sand.

Now, as Fleur glanced across the banquet hall, absentmindedly taking part in the feast in honour of House Stark, she couldn't keep her eyes off of the girl.

She was still with Maester Lupin in the same clothes she had ridden in earlier. But, this time, her hair had been pulled out and was lying in untamed curls down her back. There was a smile on her face. She shouldn't have been surprised that the girl was from Dorne. She held herself different from the other Northerners. Her stance was more relaxed and she acted more at ease with herself as she laughed and sipped on mead that Fleur wasn't allowed to touch in fear of becoming drunk for all of the Court to see.

But Hermione (and her companions) had no such resignations as they refilled the goblets and laughed together.

"Something troubling you, my daughter?" Queen Apolline Targaryen, Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, Queen of Westeros smiled down at her eldest daughter with a raised eyebrow.

Fleur wished that she had as many grand titles as her mother had. Before she was born, she had been heralded as the 'Stallion who mounts the world' but once she was born, she was less of a stallion and more of 'a dragon who wants to eat and sleep'.

"Nothing," She replied softly, drawing her eyes away from the girl who was now sitting in her seat and smirking over the rim of her goblet as another one of her companions started regaling her with a tale.

"Hmm," Apolline replied," What it is that has you so riled? Is it one of the people that Lady Ginevra brought with her?"

"Perhaps," Fleur said.

"I see." Her mother set her goblet onto the table with a small shrug," Perhaps if they win your affections then I shall allow them to say in Court once the wedding is over."

Fleur tried not to get her hopes up as she turned back to see Hermione laughing again - a smile lighting up her face. The conversation had obviously changed again because she was the one that was talking now. She seemed popular as well - everybody on her table seemed to be listening to her. Fleur took in her appearance again. Her riding leathers looked worn and well broken in - probably from years of use - but were fraying at the edges. Fleur briefly wondered if Hermione couldn't pay to repair them.

She wondered what would happen if new leathers were delivered to the girl's room - if Hermione would accept them or try to find out who they came from.

They made eye contact again, for a fleeting second and Fleur, even when Hermione turned her attention back to her companions, couldn't keep the smile off of her face for the rest of dinner.

* * *

The first time that they spoke to each other was the day after the banquet.

Her mother was in meetings all day and her little sister, Gabrielle, was off with her friends so Fleur was alone as she headed down to the practice area - eager to see how the knights of Winterfell fared against the Queensguard.

At first, Fleur stood in the doorway - watching in awe as Hermione sparred with Lord Ronald.

She was light on her feet - forgoing any sort of footwear in favour of going barefoot. Her tunic was off - only a tight swath of leather protecting her modesty - but none of the Winterfell soldiers seemed to care as she parried expertly and sidestepped another swipe from Ronald's dual blades. If Fleur was to compare Hermione's combat to anything then it would have been a dance. Her movement was fluid and her feet drew spirals in the sand as she moved - each step precise and all of her strikes hit, easily getting between the young Lord's defences with the precision of a snake.

Her blade changed hands every so often and she seemed equally as skilled in both hands - favouring neither of them as she spun.

The battle ended as quickly as it had begun.

Both of Lord Ronald's blade were in Hermione's right hand and he was lying on the ground of the sand pit, the girl's blade to his throat. Fleur took that time to move into the area.

"Your Grace," Lady Ginevra dipped into a curtesy as Fleur approached.

"Speak true, Lady Ginevra," Fleur replied instead of a proper greeting," Tell me what you know of Miss Sand."

Evidently, that wasn't what Ginny had expected the princess to say.

She cleared her throat. "Hermione's from Dorne," She said finally," From Sunspear specifically. She's the bastard of Lord Rodolphus Martell. She and her mother lived there for a time before Lady Bellatrix found out and drove them away."

Fleur just nodded along - staring a bit too intently to the way that Hermione was twirling her sword expertly in her hand as she waited her turn again.

Everybody knew of Lady Bellatrix's crazed nature and it didn't surprise Fleur in the slightest that she would scare off the bastard daughter caused by her husband's infidelity.

"They arrived in the North when Hermione was eleven," Ginny continued," She was already a decent swordswomen and Maester Lupin immediately snatched her as an apprentice once he learnt that she could read. They call her the Lion of Dorne back home or the Lynx of Winterfell, they reference the same thing - she competed in her first tourney when she was thirteen and wiped everybody else out."

"And what great warrior holds her heart?" Fleur tried not to sound too interested as she watched Hermione throw her sword into the air and catch the blade part easily on the back of her hand.

Ginny stifled her laugh. "Hermione is currently free in her affections, Your Grace. She has enjoyed the company of men and women alike."

Fleur nodded before a groan spilled from her lips when she had seen who had approached Hermione once the previous battle had finished.

"Your Grace?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"If you are to stay in my mother's court," Fleur said," Then you will soon become acquainted with many of the heirs of noble houses. That is Draco Lannister, the soul heir to Casterly Rock."

"Harry has mentioned him before," Ginny said softly as they both stared at the boy.

He was dressed in glimmering armour in the colours of his House. The sigil of his family was printed on his chest plate and a heavy sword was pushed through his belt. It had been named 'Lion's Tooth' and Fleur found it horrific. She believed every sword should have a good name but naming a sword something as stupid as Lion's Tooth just proved how arrogant the Heir of Lannister was.

"Did he mention that Draco Lannister is the most arrogant person he has ever met?" Fleur inquired, eyes not leaving Hermione's figure.

"Yes...he did," Ginny replied," I hope Hermione knocks him in the dirt and spits on him."

"I like you," Fleur said," Please, call me Fleur, you are marrying my best friend. This 'Your Grace' stuff gets boring after a while."

"Ginny - please."

"Of course," Fleur said.

They both turned back to the scene.

"Are you not going to put on armour?" Draco taunted as he stepped into the ring," I suppose that it shall be easy to skewer you then."

Hermione let out a humourless laugh as her sword was thrown to her. She did some sort of fancy twirl with the blade that Fleur couldn't even begin to understand before she addressed Draco. "Or perhaps you are just a coward, My Lord," She said with a cruel smile," Are you so scared that I may harm you that you have donned your best armour to fight me?"

Draco scoffed as he pointed her sword at her. "As if you have the permission to talk to me, you filthy bastard!"

Hermione laughed again. "Didn't you know?" She said," We're cousins in law - your aunt is married to my father."

Draco made a strangled noise in the back of his throat before charging - sword already raised.

Fleur had watched enough warriors to know what was going on. Even before his sword came down, she read the anger in his eyes, in his posture, in the way that he swung his sword. Her mother often joked that Fleur was half dragon, gifted in the way that she could easily read emotions - almost able to taste them as her dragon companions did.

She watched as Hermione stepped to the side a moment before the sword hit her.

Draco's blade was heavy and he didn't have time to pull his it up before it crashed into the sand.

Hermione slipped behind him, motions incredibly fluid as she swatted him on the arse with the flat of her blade.

"Uh oh," Ginny said from Fleur's side," Hermione's playing with him now - that's not good."

"How so?"

"She only plays with those not worth her time. She does it at tourneys all of the time - it drives the crowds wild."

Draco was up again and swinging wildly. Hermione dodged each swing, ducking and weaving as she stepped back, hands clasped behind her back. She had hardly broken a sweat - even if the morning chill was quite brutal. Fleur, herself, was dressed in light furs to keep herself warm while Hermione was only on low rise trousers - traditionally Dornish in style. The colours were also Dornish - a light yellow contrasting the greys of the Winterfell soldiers.

Hermione moved like water as she turned on one foot and swatted at Draco again. Her hair had come loose again and was bouncing behind her as she ducked under a clumsy swing. The Winterfell soldiers were openly laughing now which only proved to further enrage the Lannister boy until he was storming forward. Hermione danced out of his reach each time, light on her feet and a smile on her face.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled from outside the training circle," Get on with it! I'm hungry!"

Hermione laughed as she twirled again, one foot slipping her into a low crouch before she rose up and stuck her foot out, tripping Draco into the sand.

She had her blade at his throat before he could even react - a taunting eyebrow raised.

"My father will hear about this!"

Hermione laughed. "Make sure to tell him that it was a bastard that put you on your arse!" She yelled after him as the Winterfell soldiers jeered at the boy.

She exited the circle and approached Ginny, an easy smile on her face. Her step faltered when she noticed Fleur standing near them. The princess was determinedly looking Hermione in the eyes - completely ignoring the flexing stomach muscles that were on display.

"Oh," Hermione said as she dipped into a hasty curtesy," Hello, Your Grace."

"Ah, yes," Fleur said, a pink blush staining her beautiful features," It is a pleasure to meet you. Lady Ginevra was just telling me about your exploits. I am glad that the Lion of Dorne humiliated the Heir of Lannister."

Hermione nodded once. "Happy to be of service, Your Grace." She turned to Ginny. "I will see you at dinner, Gin - Maester Lupin wants to see me during lunch." She looked at Fleur. "An honour to meet you, Your Grace. I will take my leave now."

* * *

The aeries of Kings Landing were a more recent thing that had been built after Fleur's mother had come to the throne. They held one purpose and one purpose only.

Namely, to be the resting place of the Queen's three dragons.

Fleur greeted them all as she entered. Drogon, her mother's personal mount, blinked at her before curling up in the corner again. Gabrielle's dragon, Viserion also blinked at her - although he lumbered off to the other end of the aerie where the dragon eggs were waiting for him. Nobody was quite sure where he had gotten them from but, one day, he had come home with a clutch and was refusing to leave them alone. Judging by their glowing red shells, Fleur assumed that they were soon to hatch.

But, it wasn't them that she was interested. Her stride didn't falter as she approached the far side of the aeries to where Rhaegal was waiting for her, eyes unblinking as she approached. He nudged against her hand and Fleur sighed in relief. Rhaegal could be highly temperamental when he wanted to be and she never really knew what to expect when she came to see him. Either way though, he was _her_ mount and she was his rider.

"Hello Rhaegal," Fleur said softly as he unwound his neck to wrap around her happily - smoke curling from his nostrils," It is good to see you again. I'm sorry that I have not visited lately - my attentions have been elsewhere." Rhaegal looked at her in confusion, his tongue forking outwards to taste her emotions. "There is a girl," Fleur confessed slowly," She is from Dorne. A bastard but so very beautiful. She is good with a sword and Ginny says that she is incredibly smart. Rhaegal, she's perfect."

"Your Grace? I am sorry for intruding. I was wondering if you could direct me to the library?"

Fleur whirled around in an instant, heart hammering in her chest, a pink blush standing on her face as she tried to work out how long the new arrival had been standing there for.

Hermione was stood at the entrance way to the aerie, holding all manner of thick tomes in her arms.

"Miss Sand," Fleur said softly. She took a few seconds to discreetly look at the girl over. She was dressed in her riding leathers with her sword sheathed at her belt. Her clothes were loose and did nothing to protect her from the morning chill. "Are you not cold?"

Hermione quirked a smile and Fleur felt her face heat up. "It's colder in Winterfell, Your Grace," She said," The temperature doesn't really affect me at all."

"It gets very hot in the Summer. Will the temperature affect you then?"

"It will not be as hot as Dorne," Hermione countered.

Fleur just nodded. "I suppose."

Having never actually been to Dorne, she took Hermione's words for it.

"And what of your feet?" Fleur prompted," You never seem to wear shoes."

Hermione looked down at her feet. They were dirtied from all of the walking around she had been doing and were a far cry from the beautiful ballet pumps that the princess was wearing on her feet. "Shoes were expensive in Dorne," She said quietly," I grew so used to not wearing them that I have no need of shoes anymore. I grew used to the cold of the North when me and my mother travelled there that there is no need for me to use my money to buy something unneeded."

"Even when you are cold?"

Hermione nodded solemnly. "Even when I am cold."

Fleur opened her mouth to respond but didn't get the chance. Rhaegal lumbered over suddenly, no longer tall and imposing as he crawled across the floor of the aerie. It seemed to shock both girls as he moved to nuzzle Hermione's side insistently.

"Rhaegal does not like those who do not have Valyrian blood," Fleur said slowly as she watched the scene before her," He does not normally take to other people well."

Hermione almost laughed before she remembered that she was in the presence of the next ruler of Westeros. "I am afraid that it is not me that he likes, Your Grace."

"Oh?" Fleur almost wished that Hermione dropped the 'Your Grace' title completely. There was no doubt about it. Fleur was attracted to the girl - a different sort of attraction to the physical one that she felt when she saw the women in taverns across the city and certainly different from the stifled, almost tense attraction she felt when looking at the other heirs of noble houses. This was different and it filled a hole in her chest that she didn't know was empty.

She _craved_ more of it.

Hermione pulled a handful of sugar cubes from her pocket and popped one in her mouth "I have a sweet tooth," She confessed - almost shyly as she fed one of them to the dragon," I suppose that dragons do as well, Your Grace."

"You are an odd one, Hermione Sand of Dorne," Fleur said in an almost reverent tone," I look forward to getting to know you better."

* * *

Fleur decided, as she walked into the library with her mother and younger sister, that there was nothing more beautiful than Hermione in the dim light of the candles. The light illuminated her face and made the golden streaks in her hair glow bright. She truly looked like a lion of Dorne as she hunched over the table and continued to translate old runes into the Common Tongue. 

Maester Lupin was sat next to her - unsurprising as Hermione was his apprentice. Fleur knew little of the man in front of her - only that he was a skilled healing and fluent in ancient languages that many men had no chance of ever understanding.

"Your Grace!" He exclaimed when he noticed the three of them standing there.

He was on his feet in seconds and Hermione followed suit. They both bowed deeply to the three royals before they stood properly, stiff backs and eyes not daring to meet the gaze of any of the Targaryens - even little Gabrielle who was known to be quite the sweetheart.

"I have heard of your feats Miss Sand and I am impressed," Queen Apolline said, completing ignoring Maester Lupin," Both my eldest and Lady Ginevra speak highly of you."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Hermione kept her head down, staring at her bare feet.

"Will you be participating in the Tourney after the wedding?"

"I am afraid not, Your Grace. I don't have enough money to enter. The House of Locke in the North are my sponsors and they are currently still in Oldcastle."

Apolline flicked a dismissive hand. "Nonsense," She said," I will sponsor you. Yes, I can see it now. Lion of Dorne, Lynx of Winterfell and Queen's Champion. Well? What say you Hermione Sand?"

Hermione flicked her eyes up. "I am honoured, Your Grace," She said," And I will endeavour to prove your choice true."

"See to it that you do Miss Sand," Apolline replied. She turned to Maester Lupin. "Now, for the other reason I am here. Maester Lupin, I wish for you and your apprentice to teach my children the runes of the old gods. I trust that this won't be a problem?"

"Not at all, Your Grace," Maester Lupin said," It would be an honour."

* * *

Feasting, it seemed, was becoming a nightly occurrence in the runup to Harry and Ginny's wedding because, here Fleur was again, sitting by her mother's side as she stole glances at Hermione from across the room.

She was smiling as she sat at Maester Lupin's right side, nodding along to a story that was being told by one of the Winterfell soldiers - a conversation too far away for Fleur to hear from her position at the high table.

They met eyes for a brief second and Hermione nodded in acknowledgement.

It wasn't much but at least it was progress.

"Are you in love, Fleur?" Harry teased from his seat next to the princess, following her eyeline.

"Shut up," She replied.

"Oooh," He had a taunting grin on his face that was all too familiar," So you are in love."

Fleur gripped her goblet a bit too hard as she glared at her best friend. Her tone was full of teasing. "Just as you are with Ginny."

Harry went red and determinedly didn't look to Ginny's side of the table. A smile was on his face though and he didn't deny the accusation.

Apparently though, that wasn't the only accusation of the night.

Fleur noticed what was going on a moment before the hall fell silent.

Lucius Lannister (Fleur had no idea when he had even arrived in Kings Landing) had wrenched Hermione from her seat by the arm and had dragged her over to the high table. Fleur was already halfway out of her seat when the Lord finally opened his mouth.

"I demand that this bastard be executed!"

Ginny had stood up as well - as had Ron - and it looked to be more than half of the Stark Bannerman were reaching for their weapons.

Apolline's lips just curved into a wicked smile. "And on what grounds are you charging her on?" Her voice was deceptively silky and the room stilled.

"Humiliation of my heir!"

Harry scoffed from where he was sat. "Anybody could humiliate Draco," He said," He doesn't make it difficult. Hermione has done no wrong except scared him off for a while."

"It is true, Your Grace," Ginny said quickly - sending hopeful eyes to the Queen," Hermione only beat him in the practice ring - I swear it, Your Grace."

Lucius just sneered. The rivalry between the Lannisters and the Starks was well known throughout Westeros and Ginny has done her House no favours by defending the bastard girl from Dorne so passionately. A Stark's word meant nothing to a Lannister.

"She is right, Mother," Fleur intervened quickly," Hermione did nothing but Draco challenged her to do."

Apolline, for her part, just seemed deeply amused of the proceedings as she took a long sip of her wine. "Fear not, my daughter," She said," No harm will befall Miss Sands - although your affections for her will be discussed privately at a later date." Fleur flushed and prayed to the old gods that nobody below the high table had heard what her mother said. "Lord Lannister despite the 'treatment' of your heir, I can not just allow you to sentence my champion for the Tourney to death."

"Cham-Champion?" Lucius stuttered out.

"Yes, champion," Queen Apolline snapped," Is there a problem with that?"

"She's a bastard!"

"I am aware of that fact, yes, Lucius. Thank you for telling the entire hall something they already knew," The Queen replied," I will not be slaughtering the most promising soldier I have seen in years - perhaps your own heir could learn a thing or two from her."

* * *

Harry and Ginny's wedding, Fleur realised as she swirled her wine around in her goblet, was the stuff of legends - although if it was going to be a good legend or one of those 'this-is-what-not-to-do' legends still remained to be seen.

The ceremony itself had been short and sweet while the reception...the reception had been going on since mid morning. 

Fleur sighed as she hid herself in the dark corner of the hall. Boys had never attracted her like girls seemed to do and she dodged all of their attempts at asking her to dance - much to her mother's fond amusement. Fleur downed her wine in one big gulp and hurried out of the room.

Nobody would notice her absence - they were all too drunk to see anything further than their own hands.

The air was cold - not surprising seeing as they were just coming to the end of Winter - and Fleur pulled her furs closer to her body to ward off the chill.

"Oh, Your Grace, my apologies. I did not mean-"

Fleur's heart missed a beat when she saw Hermione standing nearby. She had cleaned up well for the wedding as she stood near the front of the procession of the Stark bannermen that had guided Ginny to the Great Sept of Baelor. Ron had been the one that actually walked Ginny down the aisle but Hermione had been the one that had walked in behind them.

Her mother had whispered in Fleur's ear that it was some odd wedding tradition in the North - something about solidifying the Bannermen's loyalty to the bride even when she moved from her birth House to another. Fleur had scarcely listened as she watched Hermione take a knee and pledged her blade to Ginny's service.

She hadn't changed her outfit much since then - only taking off her breastplate and leaving her in a loose fitting tunic.

Her eyes darted to the dog kennels in her nervousness and Fleur followed her gaze.

She recognised the dog easily. It was one of her own, a purebred hunting dog from the Stormlands - one that had been a gift for Fleur's eleventh name day. By the dog's belly, was a wriggling litter of puppies. 

They each had a smackering of colour that showed exactly whose pups they were.

"They are mutts," Fleur said softly, thinking that the other girl needed an explanation," Mother will order somebody to put them down soon."

Hermione scowled slightly as she sat on the fence. "I had a mutt once," She said," It was the only thing my father ever gave me. She was a small thing, whip-smart with little grey patches on her paws and her ears. She protected my mother's cottage just as well as any purebred dog would have."

Fleur heard what Hermione wasn't saying and looked down at the floor, ashamed.

"What happened to her?" She asked softly.

"She died," Hermione said," While we were out hunting - gored by a stag. I put her down. She was bleeding out slowly in my arms so I took a hunting dagger, said a blessing and slit her throat so her death would be easy and swift. I buried her in the snow."

Fleur cocked her head to the side. She glanced at Hermione and then at the puppies again. Seraphina - their mother - raised her head as Fleur moved to pat her, one hand smoothing down her fur. "Choose one," She said finally.

"What?" Hermione said, straightening her spine.

"Choose one," Fleur repeated, gesturing to the squirming litter of puppies," Any of them. They'll only get put down anyway - the least I can do is let you have one of them."

"But-"

"Hermione." Fleur stepped forwards and clasped their hands together. "Choose one - if anything, you are doing me a service. Having one of my dogs trained by the Lynx of Winterfell will show that mutts aren't to be underestimated."

Hermione stared at the princess for a moment, eyes staring deep into Fleur's - who was glad that the moonlight was able to hide her growing blush - before she hopped down from the fence. She moved towards the puppies, eyes raking over each of them. She crouched next to them, one hand stretching outwards for Seraphina to sniff.

"That one," Hermione said softly.

Fleur glanced at the puppy that Hermione was staring at. It was sleeping at the haunches of Seraphina - whining slightly in its sleep. It was small - a lot smaller than its littermates - with a deep black coat and patches of white around its muzzle and one of its eyes. 

The runt of the litter.

Fleur smiled and nodded. She chewed on her lip for a moment before clearing her throat. "If I may, Miss Sand, I would like to be present as you train her."

Hermione's lips quirked upwards. "Call me Hermione," She said," You're welcome to join us at any time you wish, Your Grace."

"Fleur - please, call me Fleur."

* * *

Fleur's last lesson with Maester Lupin couldn't have gone better if she tried.

For one, Maester Lupin and Gabrielle left a bit early because Gabrielle had spilled some of the ink over both of them, forcing Maester Lupin to retire to his quarters to change and for Gabrielle to return to her rooms to do the same.

Throughout her time in the library (a place that she didn't often go), Fleur spent most of her learning time getting involved in heated staring matches with Hermione - who often looked away first. But, it only spurred Fleur on and, a few times, she had almost been caught by Maester Lupin as she slipped her feet up Hermione's legs. It was worth it in the end when she saw the blushes that stained Hermione's face as she determinedly didn't raise her eyes to meet Fleur's.

As soon as Gabrielle and Maester Lupin were gone, Fleur abandoned her work and leaned closer to Hermione, a smile on her face.

They had been playing an odd game of cat and mouse the past few weeks and Fleur was bored of it.

It had been fun at first, leaving little presents in Hermione's temporary room and coincidentally 'walking past' when she was opening them. She always made sure to be in the training grounds when the Winterfell soldiers were there - making sure to talk to Hermione during the gaps between matches. She was at every training session with Hermione and Illyria - the puppy that had been chosen. She made sure that every time she greeted the girl, she pressed two kisses to her cheeks - dangerously close to her lips.

Fleur had had enough of waiting.

If Hermione wasn't going to make a move then she would.

Fleur leaned closer, resting her head on Hermione's shoulder and using her fingers to trace patterns atop the girl's unoccupied hand.

There was silence between them for a moment - a serene moment of calm with just them and the flickering of the candles - before Hermione spoke.

"I think that I like you, Fleur," She whispered softly like it was a secret," I think that I like you in the romance sense."

Fleur smiled softly. She tried to mask her emotions like her mother taught her but her blush gave the game away. "You think?" She managed to say even though she was currently celebrating in her mind.

"Fine," Hermione replied," I know that I like you - in the romance sense. The question is, do you like me back?"

Fleur's kiss was answer enough for the both of them.

* * *

The tourney was, of course, a huge spectacle to watch and Fleur thoroughly enjoyed it.

The archery was good, the jousting was enjoyable but, Fleur's favourite activity was the sword fighting. She was sat at her mother's right side in the royal box as she watched the fights. Queen Apolline seemed to enjoy them all but she didn't smile until Hermione took to the stage.

She was an interesting warrior to watch. Yet again, she had forgone any armour - making her light on her feet. She was the antithesis of clashing cultures. Her trousers and loose tunic were Dornish in colour - a dull yellow that hung comfortably from her figure but was loose enough to fan out dramatically when Hermione flipped out of the way of an oncoming attack. She would have looked incredibly Dornish if it wasn't for the thick Lynx pelt that hung from her shoulders like a cape - proclaiming her to be anything but a typical Dornish swordswoman.

Ginny, from her place in the royal box with Harry, had leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial tone to the royal family that that was the fur of the first Lynx that Hermione had killed. It had been skinned and eaten at a feast but Maester Lupin had taken the pelt to the Stark Seamstress and made Hermione a cloak, a hat and a pair of mittens.

The crowd cheered and groaned as they watched the Queen's Chosen Champion spar against the Champion of Martell. 

Fleur had winced when she had seen the line-up for the semi-final match. 

House Martell had been invited to the wedding but hadn't attended. Nobody had expected Lord Rodolphus and Lady Bellatrix to arrive in Kings Landing in time for the tourney and nobody had expected them to have a Champion ready for the games. The man that had been chosen was Lord Rodolphus' younger brother, Rabastan - who was heir to the House until such time that his brother had a legitimate child.

Hermione leapt back a moment before her head was knocked from her neck.

A thin line of blood bloomed at her cheek and, slightly dazed, she touched it in shock.

Fleur watched as her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword and her eyes hardened with resolve.

The first swing was hard and fast - catching Rabastan off guard for a second.

The second swing wasn't of Hermione's blade but of her fist instead.

Rabastan's helmet went flying off his head - clattering onto the sand nearby.

Shock clouded his features for a moment and he scarcely had time to defend himself from Hermione's attack.

Their blade clashed together and Fleur's breath hitched.

It was beautiful.

It was the first time that she had ever thought a battle was beautiful before.

In that moment, Fleur realised that the Dornish way of fighting was so much neater than the other places in her mother's empire. It was a dance, a swift give and take between two master warriors. A swing down turned into a parry and a block turned into a slash.

The pair of them twirled around the sandy arena like it was their personal dancefloor.

Hermione leapt into the air, spinning as she did so - sword coming down in an accurate slash.

It was blocked with ease and Rabastan's other hand shoved her back.

Hermione's feet slid off balance and she fell to the ground.

The crowd groaned loudly.

Rabastan gave her a cocky grin.

As she hurried to her feet, his blade came down.

Fleur closed her eyes.

The crowd cheered and she tentatively slid them open - mouth falling open at what she saw.

Hermione was grinning - although it was slightly tense.

Her free hand was wrapped around her uncle's blade, stopping it from hitting her. She had caught it - _she had caught the blade in her hand_ and now she was bleeding. It was such a Northern move that it shocked Rabastan for a moment, interrupting the otherwise Dornish Dance that the pair were partaking in.

A hush descended on the ground as Hermione slammed her head forward - hitting it against his skull, another dirty Northern move that Rabastan hadn't expected. His momentary distraction was all she needed to disarm him.

Rabastan Martell fell to the ground with Hermione's and his own sword crossed over each other, pressed up on either side of his throat.

The crowd cheered and Fleur did the same - clapping loudly as a wide smile appeared on her face. Ginny and Ron were on their feet and the Winterfell soldiers picked up a cheer without being ordered to.

"LION OF DORNE! LYNX OF WINTERFELL!" They chanted over and over again.

Hermione grinned to herself, dropped her uncle's blade by his side and bowed deeply to the crowd and the royal box.

"My Champion wins," Queen Apolline announced to the audience and to Lord Rodolphus. Fleur had known her mother long enough to know when she was about to watch somebody squirm like a worm on a hook. Apolline sent a look at Bellatrix while she spoke to the woman's husband. "You squandered such a good chance on her as well," She drawled with a smug smile inching onto her face," A shame for you, truly."

* * *

During the gap between the last match of the tourney, Fleur snuck away from the royal box. It hadn't slipped her mother's notice - who had sent Fleur a secret smile as she went. Her feet found Hermione in minutes, sitting on a bench as Maester Lupin fussed over her. 

Or...he fussed over her in his own way - namely disinfecting her hand by pouring wine all over it and yelling at her.

Fleur cleared her throat and Maester Lupin froze. He bowed rigidly at her. "Your Grace," He greeted," Can I help you?"

Fleur knew that he was moments away from yelling at her to leave - royal blood or no - and she didn't blame him in the slightest. Hermione's wound needed treating and she was the one stopping him from doing so.

"May I?" She held her hand out for the cloth bandage," Mother made sure that I had healer training. I will help and discuss with the Queen's Champion what I wish to discuss. Is this acceptable to you, Maester Lupin?"

He glanced at Hermione for a moment - searching her eyes for something - before nodding. He passed Fleur the bandage, wished Hermione luck for the last match before dismissing himself back to the seats for the Stark Bannermen.

"Catching the blade was stupid," Fleur said as she worked, cleaning the wound and beginning to wrap it up.

"I know," Hermione murmured back," I wasn't really thinking - all I could think about was embarrassing him." Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I hate him," She said," I hate him and my father and Lady Bellatrix - I wanted to embarrass them all."

Fleur laughed softly, shaking her head in exasperation. "Mother made sure to rub salt in that particular wound," She replied with a smile," She told him that he had lost a good chance on you."

Hermione smiled softly before wincing slightly as the bandage pressed down too hard against the slice in her hand. "Who am I up against now?"

"Tom Baratheon." Fleur couldn't help the disgust that entered her voice.

"You don't like him?" Hermione asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tom Baratheon is a powerhouse of a warrior," Fleur grimaced," He has been known to kill his opponents in these tourneys."

"I'm not going to die, Fleur."

"You can't know that," Fleur replied softly as she tied off the bandage. She clasped their hands together tightly and stared deep into Hermione's eyes. "Please don't let him get to you - don't die. I would miss you terribly if you did."

Hermione's brow furrowed for a moment before she nodded. "I will not die," She vowed," I will beat him - in your honour, Fleur."

She was responded with a swift kiss before leaving.

Hermione raised her hand to touch her lips with a dazed smile on her face.

* * *

Hermione jumped back, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to back away from the hit.

She was being run all across the arena with scarcely anytime to defend herself ever since this match had started.

Tom Baratheon seemed to be a few years older than her but just as cocky as Draco Lannister had been. Only, this time, he could back it up with his swordsmanship. He wielded his blades similar to Ron did - one in each hand - but, unlike her friend, this young Lord hadn't been put off by her fancy footwork and quick hits. Each one had been deflected and redirected with ease and it was beginning to grate on Hermione's nerves.

The crowd cheered and booed in equal parts and she wasn't entirely sure who they were rooting for. Vaguely, she could hear the Winterfell soldiers stamping their feet and chanting her nicknames but it was mostly drowned out by the roaring in her ears as she ducked under an oncoming swing and scrambled to put distance between her and her opponent.

He was faster than she gave him credit for. He had foregone armour as well - surprising, seeing as he was from a noble family and could actually afford to buy some. His blades were heavy but seemed to do the job well as Hermione jumped back again. He had gotten a good hit on her - blood dripping down her head. She winced slightly and briefly wondered if it was going to scar - another one to add to her collection of hard won scars from battles over the year.

She sucked in a breath as she missed another strike - one that came dangerously close to slice her arm off.

"COME ON HERMIONE!" Over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears, she recognised the tell-tale scream of Ron.

She spared a glance at the Royal Box - where all of the members of the Noble Houses were sat. Her eyes flicked over to Ron and then to Ginny, who was sat next to her new husband. She ignored her father and his wife and glanced over to the Royal Family. Little Gabrielle looked excited, clapping her hands happily as she watched the show - not truly understanding what was going on and not really rooting for Tom or Hermione. The Queen was watching on with a critical eye and, as Hermione met her gaze, Apolline quirked an eyebrow. Hermione gritted her teeth as her eyes sought out Fleur.

The princess was sitting on the edge of her seat - literally - and looked to be seconds away from calling for the fight to be finished. She was gnawing on her bottom lip in worry and Hermione scowled. She glanced back at Tom - who was slowly advancing on her.

Hermione sighed and straightened her back, tightening her grip on her blade before making a split second decision that would make or break the tourney.

The Dorne way was to be light on her feet, to be graceful and swift with her strikes, to evade when she couldn't attack. Hermione squared her shoulders as Tom Baratheon approached - a sadistic smile on his face as he flipped his swords in his hands. 

She had dedicated most of her life to the Dorne way, the place of her ancestors.

She narrowed her eyes before planting her feet.

The Northern way was to fight everything head on - no fancy tricks and no theatrics, just pure skill, strategy and power...something that Hermione knew she had in droves.

Tom took another step forward and Hermione analysed him as he did so.

He put most of his weight in his front foot - making it more difficult for him to turn around quickly. Most of his skin was covered by his tunic but his neck was bare - nothing worn upon it, not even a token of his House.

He swung one of blades down at her and Hermione turned at the last second, parrying the other strike and pushing it away from her body. She was behind him a second before he could even register what she had done. The cheering started anew again as Hermione kicked him in the centre of his back.

He was off balance in seconds and she swept his legs out from under him.

Tom landed on the grounded with a satisfying thump and a groan.

Hermione grinned like a wolf and grabbed him by the hair, pulling the boy onto his knees. Her blade was at his neck and one of her feet was pressing down on his left arm.

He dropped his blades and slumped against her.

"LIONE OF DORNE! LYNX OF WINTERFELL!" Her fellow Bannermen cheered. "QUEEN'S CHAMPION!"

They were soon drowned out by the screaming of the crowd and the faint clinking of money bags being passed around after people won and lost bets. 

Hermione panted as she stepped away from her opponent, panting slightly. Her clothes felt sticky with her blood and she felt a little light headed.

She bowed deeply as the declaration of her victory was announced, before stumbling out of the arena to get her injuries treated.

"I may just steal Miss Sands from your Noble House," Queen Apolline quipped as Ron and Ginny rose to their feet to clap for Hermione," She would look good in my guard."

Fleur scarcely heard her, beaming with joy as she watched Hermione stumble to Maester Lupin's side as she was being clapped on the back by her fellow Winterfell soldiers.

* * *

Fleur found Hermione out in the courtyard two days after the tourney had ended. She had tried to see the girl earlier but had been unceremoniously booted from the girl's room by Maester Lupin who told her that, even if she was a princess, she couldn't just barge into Hermione's room while the girl was healing. So, Fleur had backed off and resigned herself to the fact that she probably wasn't going to see Hermione for, at least, a week.

Of course, Hermione hadn't seemed to get the memo that she was supposed to be in bed resting which was how Fleur found her in the courtyard with little Illyria, the puppy, by her feet.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Fleur quipped as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest with a teasing smile on her face.

"Aren't you supposed to be in lessons?" Hermione snarked back.

"I'm skipping."

"I noticed," Hermione said with a smile," Illyria! No!" 

The puppy, of course, didn't take any notice of that because she ran up to Fleur and jumped on her, licking every bit of available skin she could find.

"Look what you've done now Fleur!" Hermione chastised," I was just getting her to learn how to stay!"

Fleur tutted under her breath as she gathered Illyria in her arms and stood up. She took a few steps closer to the pouting Hermione and pressed a kiss to her lips. "You know, I could have you executed for talking to me like that - I'm the heir to the throne."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "But you won't because you'd miss me too much."

"Yeah," Fleur admitted with a sigh," I would."

Hermione grinned at her. "I'm glad that we're on the same page then." She plucked the puppy from Fleur's hands and placed Illyria back onto the floor. "Now, sit. Good, now, stay."

She grabbed Fleur's hand and backed up a few steps - repeating the word as she did so.

They waited for a few more seconds as Illyria dutifully waited for her next command, tail thumping on the ground happily and tongue rolling out of her mouth.

"Alright," Hermione said with a smile on her face. It was blinding and Fleur wondered what would happen if she were to lean in right then and there and kiss her. "Illyria - come here."

The puppy ran towards them yapping and jumping up at them - tail wagging in joy as Hermione bent down to give her a few strips of dried meat. She looked up to see Fleur staring down at her - a wide smile on her beautiful face.

"What?" Hermione asked," Is there something on my face?"

Fleur just laughed, shaking her head in exasperation. "No," She said," You just look very pretty today."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she threw a piece of rope for Illyria to run after. "Fleur - I literally rolled out of bed like a few hours ago."

Fleur shrugged as she took a daring step forward. "So?" She said, quirking an eyebrow and smirking," Can you not be pretty and freshly out of bed?"

"Do I need to remind you that I'm a soldier, Fleur?" Hermione replied," I'm not meant to be pretty."

"But you are," Fleur said back. She smiled again and moved closer again, until they were so close that their noses nearly touched. "You are very pretty."

She relished in the fact that a bright red blush crept up Hermione's neck and face as the girl looked away - glancing back at Illyria who was running back through the courtyard with the piece of rope in her mouth. "I think that you're very pretty too," Hermione murmured - still not looking towards Fleur.

"Really?"

Hermione let out a laugh as she threw the rope again. "Oh no," She said," I'm not boosting your ego anymore."

"But you think that I'm pretty?"

"Are you going to make me repeat it?"

"Yes."

Hermione sighed as she looked up at her lover. She pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Then I will. You, Fleur Targaryen, are the prettiest girl I have ever met."

Fleur smiled softly at her and pressed their lips together again - harder and more passionate than Hermione's quick peck.

They both broke apart and grinned - identical blushes on their face.

Hermione stared at her for a moment longer before she reached for Fleur's hand and laced their fingers together.

* * *

Fleur wasn't entirely sure why she was being summoned to her mother's side in the middle of the day but she knew that it couldn't be because something good that happened. The last time that she had been summoned from her studies with one of her tutors had been because the previous day she had snuck out and ridden Rhaegal and somehow managed to accidentally set fire to one of the new ships that were being built.

Needless to say, she wasn't allowed to leave the palace for three weeks and had been banned from seeing any of the dragons for a month and a half.

So, Fleur was highly anxious as she entered the throne room and loitered in front of her mother - hands laced behind her back.

"Mother," She greeted," You wished to see me?"

"Ah, Fleur, yes I did," Apolline replied, her lips twisting upwards into a smile that left Fleur slightly on edge," One moment - we are just waiting for one more person."

The doors opened again and Fleur fought back her groan.

Of course this was why her mother had summoned her.

Somebody had obviously seen Hermione and Fleur kissing in the courtyard and snitched on them because Hermione had just arrived in the throne room, awkwardly walking forward and bowing deeply.

She had obviously just come from the training rings because her shirt had been hastily buttoned up, her sword was shoved through her belt and her skin held a sheen of sweat.

"Your Grace," She greeted as she bowed.

Apolline just nodded - a rare genuine smile gracing her marble features. Her eyes flicked over to her daughter - who was mentally planning the murder on however had snitched on them. "I am glad that somebody like Miss Sand has won your affections," She said," I was worried that you were going to settle with some boring Court lady who was barely literate."

Hermione sucked in an unsteady breath in shock. It was clear that Fleur was having the same thoughts as she was - namely, confusion as to why Apolline hadn't demanded the pair to stay away from each other. They exchanged a look.

"You do not care that she is a bastard?" Fleur asked softly, eyes clouding over with confusion and relief.

Apolline shrugged. "It is the not the most _desirable_ of situations and those of the Great Houses will have problems with it but I do not. The Great Houses are riddled with inbreeding, my daughter, it matters not to me if we get some new blood on the Iron Throne."

Fleur's face split into a grin and she moved to Hermione's side, lacing their fingers together.

"Thank you, mother," She said.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Hermione said - not daring to meet the Queen's eyes in fear that it was all a dream.

Apolline just grinned at them both. "Now that that's cleared up-" She clapped her hands together,"- Let us get to the real reason why you are here, Miss Sand. How would you like to be the my Champion _permanently?"_

* * *

"Fleur?" Hermione's voice was groggy as she woke up to find her lover standing over her bed in the middle of the night. At the foot of her bed, Illyria whined softly at the noise, raising her head to look at Hermione and Fleur before flopping back down and curling up to go back to sleep again. "What are you doing here? It's so late."

"Technically," Fleur said," It's early."

Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes, yawning as she took in Fleur's attire. She certainly wasn't in her nightdress or...any kind of dress for that matter. She was dressed in a snug pair of high end riding leathers. Her hair had been pulled back from her face and she was grinning like a wolf. "Whatever," Hermione groaned," What are you doing?"

"I'm going out."

"I can see that," Hermione muttered," I meant what are you doing here? As in, what are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?"

"It's early morning," Fleur replied," And I've come to get you up - we're going out together."

"This early?" Hermione groaned," Fleur - I have training at dawn."

Fleur just grinned and threw Hermione's leathers at her before pouting. "I wanted to buy you new ones," She confessed," But you'll probably get mad at me again - like how you were when I tried to buy your shoes."

That woke Hermione up instantly and she reached behind her before launching her pillow at the princess - who yelped slightly when it hit her in the face. Hermione sighed as she rose from bed and threw on the leathers that had been presented to her. "This better be good," She groused," Because if I'm grumpy at training, I can't guarantee that any of your soldiers will live to tell the tale."

Fleur laughed as she pulled Hermione into her arms and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Oh well," She waved the threat away with a flick of her hand," I've been telling Mother to get new guards. Say, how do you feel about joining the Queensguard?"

"Depends," Hermione shrugged," Is this little outing of ours going to get us killed?"

"Is this you saying that you'll come with me?"

"I believe it is," Hermione grinned before glancing at her bed," Illyria - stay."

Hermione found herself being pulled happily through the silent corridors of the palace towards the aeries. As soon as they broke through the doors, Fleur dropped her hand and set to work - quieter than Hermione had ever seen her before. 

Rhaegal cracked open his eye at the rustling before lumbering forward so Fleur could saddle him properly - lightly punching him in the ribs when he attempted to eat some of the snacks that she had hidden in her pocket.

"Tell me that you're joking," Hermione deadpanned," You can't expect me to fly on a dragon this early in the morning."

Fleur shot her a look and a crooked grin. "Are you scared?"

Hermione scoffed. "No - don't be stupid Fleur. I'm not scared, I'm merely _cautious."_

"He's a big softie," Fleur cooed, stroking Rhaegal under the chin," Just like Illyria is - you aren't scared of her."

"She's a puppy, Fleur," Hermione said, incredulous seeping into her tone," A puppy that I'm hand rearing. Rhaegal is a dragon."

Fleur shrugged. "I do not see the difference."

"A crazy person," Hermione muttered," I'm courting a crazy person."

Fleur just grinned and offered her hand.

* * *

Despite what she envisioned, Hermione found that riding on the back of Rhaegal was actually a nice experience. It was made even nicer when Fleur pulled her flush against her body, one arm wrapped around Hermione's waist to keep her steady while the other laced their fingers together tightly.

"Well?!" Fleur yelled over the roaring of the wind as Rhaegal glided through the air. "Is it as scary as you thought?"

"I wasn't scared," Hermione scoffed - only to get a chuckle in response. "Fine," She amended," I was a little worried and, to answer your question, no - this isn't as worrying as I thought it would be."

"Oh?"

Hermione tilted her head back and faced her lover. "Don't get a big head," She chided lightly.

"Do I get to tell you 'I told you so'?" 

"No."

"You are no fun," Fleur groused as Rhaegal banked right and skimmed the top of some trees with his wings.

"You think I'm plenty fun after training," Hermione pointed out.

Fleur grinned at that. Her favourite time of the day was after Hermione finished training. She couldn't even count the number of times she had pulled Hermione into a hidden alcove so they could have an impromptu make out session - although, they were becoming less impromptu and more like tradition at this point.

Fleur leaned forwards as Rhaegal began to fly them back to the palace - spurned on by the sight of the sun beginning to rise in the distance. She tilted her head towards Hermione and kissed her softly - more than happy when Hermione refused to part and kissed her back until their lungs began to burn for air.

"I think that I'm in love with you." The confession was whispered against her lips like it was a secret for only the pair of them to hear.

"You think?" Fleur teased.

"Don't be a smartarse," Hermione replied as she leaned back into her lover's body," Fine, I am in love with you."

"Good," Fleur said," Because I'm in love with you as well."

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was meant to be something really short that I started a few days ago at the three in the morning because I couldn't sleep but it kind of got out of hand. So, have this insomnia induced brain child of mine, I guess


End file.
